


Invasion

by storytellerof221b



Series: Invasion [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Druids, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, Vikings (not the TV show)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 12:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13190502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: This is a story about Sherlock being a Prince and John being a Viking. There are a few characters known and most of them I made up because I don't know any other series about this time good enough to throw them together.So Sherlock is taken away from his home and ends up with John the Viking leader. Nothing happy happens. It will take time.





	1. Preparations

**Author's Note:**

> Newest note: I have corrected some mistakes and posted this again. I also have been asked several times to write a sequel. Which I did! Yeah me! So I do hope you like it. It will be posted very soon.  
> ******************************
> 
> I suck at summaries and I need a brit-picker!
> 
> Please comment!

Sherlock sat on his throne by his brother’s side. His brother was the King of Broadshire close to the mainland’s coastline. Their parents were dead and he had taken over. Since then the country had grown a lot because he had occupied the neighbour-countries. No one exactly knew how their parents had died. Actually no one wanted to ask. They were scared of his brother.

On Mycroft’s other side sat his wife on a smaller throne. Well, what you call wife. Sherlock knew for sure he had never ever shagged her. His brother only liked men. The problem was he needed a son. He would probably ask the magician to help.

The magician stood behind his throne. He was from the island up north-west. His name was Moriarty and people mostly feared him more than Mycroft.

Sherlock stared into nothing. His body was clad in the finest garment and his fingers and chest carried the most wonderful jewellery. He was supposed to be getting married. He needed to pick a wife. He didn’t want to but had no choice.

Sherlock didn’t like women. He had tried, of course. Well, he was forced to try. His brother had brought several women from the brothel. They were supposed to show him how it worked. He hadn’t liked it at all. They all had disappeared and no one ever asked again.

Mycroft had just told him that he had no choice. He wanted to marry him off so he was out of the way. Sherlock was convinced about this.

Absent-mindedly he twirled his fingers through his locks until Mycroft hit him on his fingers with his golden cane. Sherlock only hissed but didn’t complain. He knew better.

“Behave, brother-dear. The next bride coming up is from the mainland. A marriage with her means a connection to the oldest families over there and would be most suitable. They say she is very beautiful. She also has some brothers back home. So just consider it, please?”

“Of course, my King.” Sherlock only murmured the words but sat up straight. His brother’s wife Molly leant over and adjusted his crown. He smiled at her. She was nice and he liked her. The poor little thing had had no choice but to marry his older brother. It had been an agreement between him and her family who had lost a war. She always had been nice and friendly to him and not only to him. Even Mycroft did like her so far that he didn’t harm her or cast her out.

Then the large door was opened and several people marched in. In their middle was the Princess. Sherlock had been told what her name was but had already forgotten. He sighed but only very quietly. He wondered why she was wearing a veil. She was supposed to be beautiful.

“Be polite and get up, Sherlock. Greet her.” His brother hissed. Sherlock slowly rose and his cloak moved with him. It was made from dark green velvet and made him look just stunning. He walked down the few steps and met her. He was way taller than her.

She fell into a perfect formal curtsy and he reached out to take her hand.

“Stand, Mylady.” He had been raised well and knew how to perform. She rose back up and he felt her hand trembling. He understood perfectly well. He desperately wanted to be somewhere else but had no choice at all. And if his brother decided to marry him away, she would be it.

“We are supposed to talk together. So please follow me into the garden, please?” He offered his arm and she took it. He gently led her outside and all eyes followed them.

“That went well.” Mycroft nodded and concentrated on the other guests. Moriarty lowered his mouth to his ear.

“Be careful. They brought poisoned presents. Take them but not taste them.” He whispered into the King’s ear. Mycroft’s eyes roamed over the few men and the boxes they carried. He casually leant back.

“So, what did you bring for me? Except for the Princess, of course.” He quietly chuckled.

The man at the front of the group swallowed but held himself in check. He made a step forward and so did the Royal Guards around him.

“King Mycroft, we brought many specialities from our country. We also brought gold and gemstones as well as rare garments from the East.” Mycroft waved his hand around in a bored gesture.

“Show me.” Several boxes were opened. Mycroft’s neck became longer and he looked down into the offerings. Moriarty looked over his shoulder. Molly tried not to look too interested at the garments.

Mycroft knew he needed to give her something and since his magician hadn’t mentioned any danger coming from the garments he took her hand.

“Molly, dear. I know you’d like these. Take whatever you want.” She kissed his hand smiling.

“Thank you, my King.” She stood knowing she was dismissed. She ordered the box to be brought into her rooms. Her maids followed her. She was happy and easy to enchant.

The box with gold and gemstones was brought into the Royal Treasure Chamber. Then the cook was called to take the food away. Mycroft looked rather pleased and stood.

“We thank you. Please stay for dinner. Only then We will announce Our decision in this matter.” Then he turned and walked away with Moriarty in tow.

The guards showed them to their rooms. The men gathered around a table and one stood guard by the door. They were clearly into something.

***

At the same time Prince Sherlock walked through the garden with the Princess. He really had forgotten her name since it was not important to him. She still clung to his arm. Finally they reached a bench and sat down. Sherlock turned to her.

“Could you at least lower your veil so I could have a look?” She quietly laughed.

“Now I can. It is not common for women to do in my home-country.” Sherlock shrugged.

“If I am to marry you, I want to see you first.” She took off the veil and Sherlock looked. He had to admit that she was indeed beautiful. But it meant nothing to him. He decided to be honest.

“I will talk openly to you because I think you can take it. My brother is forcing me into this. If it isn’t you, it will be the next. I have no interest in marrying a woman, if you know what I mean.” She blushed but nodded.

“I can promise you a good life though. I will provide everything you need, even male entertainment, as long as you play along.” She looked at him and wasn’t shocked at all. Then she licked her lips.

“That sounds like the perfect agreement. As long as you will provide female entertainment, we are good.” Sherlock smiled a rare genuine smile and nodded.

“Well, shall I talk to my brother then?” She nodded.

“Yes, but let’s sit outside for a bit, if you don’t mind? The journey was a bit exhausting.”

“Perhaps you would like some water or something to eat? A bath? Whatever?” She smiled.

“Yes, I’d like something to drink and to nibble on.” Sherlock stood.

“I’ll get us something. Stay here.” He didn’t take long and returned with a tray full of candy and fruits as well as juice.

“Oh, that’s nice, thank you.” At first she drank a lot and then she ate something, too.

“I also ordered a bath for you to be prepared in your rooms. I talked to your maid and she is already up there.”

“So when will we be marrying?” He shrugged.

“Whenever the magician will say it is a good day to get married.”

“Oh, the one behind your brother? He looked scary.”

“Believe me, he is scary. Everybody fears him. Except my brother. He consults him all the time.”

“Do you want to live here?” Sherlock shrugged.

“I don’t have another option.”

“You could ask your brother for another place? Perhaps he will be glad to get rid of you.” Sherlock snorted.

“Maybe he would. But he also wouldn’t be able to control me. Moriarty wishes me into purgatory or worse. Molly would be sad, I believe.”

“What do you want?” Sherlock sadly smiled and sliced an apple into pieces.

“Me? I would like to be left alone. I would like to perform my experiments and read books from all over the world.”

“Don’t you want someone in your life?” Sherlock blushed a bit which made her laugh out.

“Oh, you are adorable.” She giggled and Sherlock laughed, too.

“It’s not easy to find someone suitable for me. He can’t be boring or stupid.”

“Of course not. And let me ensure you, whenever we need to show up somewhere, you will find me not boring and rather exciting.”

“And I try my best for you, too.” They smiled at each other and continued to eat.


	2. Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock meets the Vikings.

A week later Sherlock was married to the Princess. He actually managed to not forget her name. She was called Margaret. A week later her company was hung from the castle’s walls because the food indeed had been poisoned. Mycroft would also had her maid killed but Sherlock’s intervention saved her. She was allowed to clean the cesspit instead.

Sherlock had been able to talk Mycroft into giving him a place of his own by the coast. He was allowed to stay there with his wife for some months a year but not all the time. It was a good agreement which pleased both sides.  
So their life went on and on and Sherlock was bored to death. Until one day the castle was under attack. Sherlock stood inside his brother’s room together with his wife Margaret, Mycroft’s wife Molly and the magician Moriarty. Mycroft was yelling at him.

“How could you have not foreseen this? What kind of magician are you anyway?” Moriarty bowed his head.

“I am sorry, my King. There were no signs.” Mycroft still looked very angry but couldn’t change the facts.

“What is your suggestion we do now, magician-mine?” Very sarcastic voice and also very dangerous. Even Moriarty sometimes was the target. But he had a suitable reply at hand.

“I had the pathway beneath your castle prepared just in time. We have to leave now.”

“I am not going to run away!” Mycroft was shocked.

“You will want to live.” Molly said and Mycroft wasn’t able to retort this.

“Don’t worry about your gold and such. I have organised everything.” Moriarty said and led the way outside. Mycroft grabbed Molly’s hand and pulled her away. He was indeed fond of her.

“Who is attacking us anyway?” Sherlock asked pulling Margaret along.

“Vikings.” Moriarty answered while everybody was running downstairs.

“When did we piss them off?” Sherlock asked and Mycroft huffed. They had reached the tunnels in the meantime and hurried along. Molly was crying and Sherlock helped her along because Mycroft was now busy fleeing. He also shoved Margaret along. He knew she was capable of following the others but Molly wasn’t. Sherlock took her shoes off and carried her most of the way. When he reached the end of the tunnel everybody was sitting on their horses and ready to go. The first Vikings were already to be seen and Sherlock gave Molly a push. He saw Margaret pulling her up.

Right then loads of arrows fell from the sky between Sherlock and the group.

“Go!” He shouted and they left him behind.

***

The Vikings came running up to him and stopped dead when he didn’t move. They looked at each other and shrugged. Then one stepped forward and said something. Sherlock didn’t understand the words but he reacted to the mocking sound. His mouth twisted and he made a rude gesture. The men roughly laughed and surrounded him.

They took his crown first and then his cloak. These were followed by his boots and other jewellery until he stood there with his chest all naked and only clad in a pair of trousers. Now their voices sounded more positive. The first one dared to touch him with his dirty fingers. Sherlock had to admit that he was very nicely shaped and muscular but he was dirty, sweaty and he stank. So he shoved him away. The man laughed and threw his sword away.

Then he went after Sherlock for real. Sherlock wasn’t really helpless but he stood no chance against a full grown Viking. The warrior played with him, poked at his body, pushed and shoved him but he didn’t hit him or hurt him.

Sherlock didn’t give up but soon he was panting. He also was freezing. By now he was dirty, too, because he had fallen into the mud more than once. And the men kept laughing at him.

They laughed until a harsh commanding voice stopped them. All men including Sherlock looked up. There was another Viking, clearly their leader the way he was dressed and looked. He rode closer and got off his horse. Slowly he came closer looking at Sherlock. Then he looked at his warriors. Obviously he wasn’t amused the way Sherlock had been treated. He was handed his crown and turned it in his hands. Then he looked at Sherlock again who just looked back still sitting in a puddle.

“Seems we caught the big fish, didn’t we?” He grinned a very attractive but still dangerous smile and handed Sherlock his shirt.

“Put this back on. You will bring us a fantastic ransom.” Sherlock for once didn’t talk back. He wasn’t sure that his brother would pay any ransom for him, which meant he would probably be sold into slavery. He had to think of something. But at first he got back into his now dirty shirt and kept looking for his boots, too. But they were gone already. He sighed and started to walk but the Viking stopped him.

The leader harshly ordered his men around and had one bind Sherlock’s wrists in front of him. He sat back on his horse and moved a bit back in his saddle. The other Viking threw the Prince over the horse's back and he quietly yelped.

“Shut up!” The Viking's leader ordered and once slapped his behind rather hard. Sherlock’s lips were pressed tightly together and stayed like this.

“Hold on. We will be riding for a bit.” Sherlock got a grip on the leader's muscular leg. He was smaller than the average Viking but he was clearly a leader. He was commanding this bunch of imbecilic idiots.

They rode to the coast where Sherlock saw their ships waiting. He swallowed. Should he take this as an adventure? He would be rid of his ghastly brother and his magician. He doubted they would go after him or even try to free him. He wouldn’t send troops out for him. He was just a rival even though Mycroft knew he had no intention in ruling his bloody kingdom. He could only hope that he would take care of Margaret. Molly probably would look after her.

He was pulled off the horse and his hands stayed tied in front of him. The leader's horse was taken away and he took the rope leading to Sherlock's wrists. He once hit him with it over his thighs and made him move quickly.

“Move, Princess.” The horses were brought on one ship and they boarded the bigger one. He talked to one Viking and pointed at Sherlock. It sounded strict and clear. The Viking nodded and took Sherlock into the bottom of the ship. He was pushed into a huge prison-like room and left behind. The door was locked. Sherlock inwardly shrugged and looked around.

In here was nothing. Just some dirty hay. There wasn't any window, food or even warmth. His feet were very cold by now and he felt fear flooding his body. He was lost. He would be raped and kept as a slave. His brother would never pay a ransom for him. He would be happy he got rid of him that easily. He breathed several times to calm down.

He felt the ship leaving onto the open sea and felt a bit sick. He never had been on a ship and tried not to throw up. He wondered what would happen next.

***

So far nothing happened to him. Sometimes a Viking came and brought bread and water. Nothing else. They never spoke to him and he didn't try to speak to them. He estimated it had been about four days until the door opened for him again.

His wrists were still tied and he stank of dirt, urine and other nasty things. He hadn't been able to wash his body. His hair was smeary, too. He hated all this. He hated the Vikings. He hated his brother. He hated his life or what was left of it.

He got pulled out and was led back on deck where the crew had gathered. He swallowed. His hands were untied and then the man also ripped his dirty clothes off his body until he stood there stark naked. Instead another, stronger, rope was tied around his waist. He was pushed to the side of the ship and he had an idea what was going to happen. He tried to cling to the wood bit his fingers were brutally pried off. Then the Viking lifted him up easily and threw him into the water.

Sherlock yelled and hit the waves. He swallowed a load of salty sea-water and coughed it all up. Luckily he was able to swim. He could hear the Vikings laugh and looked up. They were all looking down at him and made rude remarks and jokes.

He had to stay in the water for about an hour and was almost paralysed due to the cold when he finally got pulled up again. He wasn't able to move and just stretched his body on the wooden planks. His eyes fluttered but he heard the Viking's leader say something.

He was picked up and brought under deck again. But it smelled much nicer than before. This wasn't his cell. This was some other place. He tried to open his eyes and blinked several times to make it better.

He was placed on the floor and left behind again. It was warm. There was a fire burning. Slowly Sherlock made it on his hands and knees and crawled over to the warmth. He closed his eyes and sighed. He curled on the floor and enjoyed the warmth until a harsh voice was too close for comfort.

“What are you doing, slut? Sleeping lazily in front of my fire?” He got lightly kicked into the stomach and tried to get up. He ended up on his knees because the Viking's leader held him down fisting into his hair.

“Stay!” Sherlock swallowed but stayed where he was. It was indeed the leading Viking who now stared at him.

“I think you might be more pliable by now after having stayed four days and nights in the dirty dark?” He once shook him by some strands of his hair.

“I also believe you must be thankful I let you stay up here in the warmth after having given you a nice and relaxing bath in the sea?” He shook him again. Sherlock was too shocked to answer. The Viking lowered his head.

“I can't hear you, bitch!” Sherlock swallowed again and cleared his throat.

“I am very thankful for the provided bath and the place by fire. I won't try anything.” The Viking grinned.

“Address me as Captain, bitch!” Sherlock looked up at him.

“I am very thankful for the provided bath and the place by fire. I won't try anything, Captain.”

“Very good, slut. We will be having some fun now.” Sherlock tensed. This man would rape him. He had never been touched and only now felt the cold took hold of his pale body. He reached out for the Viking.

“Please, Captain! Please don't hurt me! I haven't … I am ...” There he swallowed and tears fell from his eyes. The Viking looked at him and his expression was somewhat dumbfounded.

“What?” He lowered his head. Sherlock straightened his body until he knelt in front of the Viking. He begged.

“Please, no one ever touched me like this. Please don't hurt me, just please?” Now he openly laughed and snatched a cane from his desk.

“Oh, I'll make you like it. Don't worry. You will like it. You will learn to like everything I will give to you. And you will beg me for it and also thank me for it. Do you understand?” Sherlock was scared to death.

“I asked you a question, bitch!” Sherlock swallowed and cleared his throat.

“I will learn to like what you give to me. I will beg you for everything you have to give and will be thankful, Captain.” His voice was quiet and he stuttered a bit. The Viking kept looking at him while he slowly hit his hand with the cane.

“Very well done. I will refrain from using this on you. For now.” He placed the cane back on his desk and Sherlock relaxed a little bit.

“Thank you, Captain.” The Viking grinned evilly.

“It doesn't mean that I won't do something fun to you, Princess.” He slowly moved around the naked and kneeling Prince. He took something out of a drawer and came back. Sherlock looked up and saw a collar in his hands.

“Don't fight this, bitch. It would only cause you harm.” And Sherlock didn't. The Viking closed it around his neck and freed his hair from beneath it.

“Now crawl over to my bed.” Sherlock did that, too. He felt humiliated but he didn't hurt.

“Kneel on the bed and spread your legs. Your back towards me. Your hands on your lower back.” Sherlock obeyed. The Viking tied his hands on his lower back. Then he came closer, knelt by his side and started to touch him. Sherlock tensed but so far he didn't hurt him.

“Yes, give in, bitch. This is just me exploring your beautiful body. You are slim and your skin is silky and pale. You never fought. You were kept inside. Whatever did you do there?” He kept moving his hands and fingers over his body. Suddenly he poked him into his side making him hiss.

“Answer me, slut! What were you doing inside?” Sherlock licked his lips.

“I was reading all the books my brother had collected over the years. I was doing experiments. I rode through the woods and over the fields but only to collect plants and feathers. Sometimes I consulted with the local druids who were hiding in the woods.”

“Huh. I see. What kind of experiments?” The Viking asked massaging his cheeks now.

“Chemical experiments. Lighten up dark places or making things explode. Mostly my brothers things. Or medical experiments. Healing sickness.” Now the Viking fisted into his hair and pulled his head back.

“You are getting more interesting by the day, slut. I won't harm you because you will be useful. You will work for me, for my tribe. And you will be mine.” His voice was rough when he placed his chafed lips on Sherlock's mouth.

Sherlock completely stilled and was held in place against the Viking's broad and muscular chest. His tongue pressed between his lips and he opened his mouth. The tongue pushed inside and the Viking groaned. He sucked on his tongue and lips while his hands moved over his chest and his fingers started to tease his nipples. And it felt nice. He gave in and he felt the Viking smile.

The hand crept south towards his groin. His legs were pushed apart a bit more and Sherlock's muscles were strained being not used to such a position. His fingers slowly folded around his prick and he stroked and pulled. Soon Sherlock was moaning into the Viking's mouth. He felt so ashamed but he couldn't help himself. This felt so awfully good.

The Viking did things to him he wasn't prepared for. No one had ever told him about this. He shivered and trembled beneath him. But suddenly he stopped and pushed him up back to his kneeling position. Sherlock panted.  
“Well, slut. This went well. You obviously liked me doing these things to you. I want something back from you.” The Viking got up and stood in front of the bed. He opened his leather trousers and pulled out his cock. Sherlock could just stare. His prick was monstrous.

“I want you to lick it. Suck it. Take it into your hot mouth and swallow what I give you.” The Viking's voice was rough with arousal and he stepped up close so Sherlock could smell him. He looked up at him.

“Please forgive me, I have never done this.”

“Never mind, slut. Just go for it. Oh, and no teeth.” Sherlock stared at his cock and licked his lips. Then he shuffled a bit forward on his knees and took his prick between his plush lips. He had to open up wide for it and his jaw cracked but he made it. His tongue moved over and around it and he tried his very best. He also tried to suck and some fluid dropped into his mouth.

“Not too bad, slut. I take over now.” The Viking fisted into his hair and held him in position. Then he started to fuck his face. Sherlock soon gurgled up spit and pre-cum. His nostrils were widened and he desperately sucked air into his lungs when he could, when his nose wasn't pressed into the Viking's blond pubic hair.

The Viking ruthlessly pushed into him until his dick touched Sherlock's throat. He gagged and coughed but the Viking showed no mercy.

“If you puke I will punish you. You won't be able to sit for days on end. Do you hear me? Breath through your nose, bitch!” Sherlock cried and snot ran over his face but he managed not to choke or even puke. He just swallowed and swallowed until the Viking loudly groaned and came down his throat. He took almost everything but when the Viking pulled out of his mouth there was some left, loads of saliva and even some blood.

The Viking looked down at him and grinned.

“Well, Princess, this was just great! You are very talented.” Sherlock belched and turned crimson.

“Thank you, Captain.” The Viking quietly laughed and looked him over. Then he ruffled his hair.

“You have performed well. You deserve a reward. Come here, bitch.” Sherlock climbed off the bed and the Viking freed his hands. He had light rope-burns but not too bad.

“You are such a tall, lanky creature. I can see your ribs. You need to eat more.” He rummaged through a drawer and threw some clothes at Sherlock.

“Here, try these. There will be better ones when we are back home. “

“Thank you, Captain.” Sherlock took the clothes. They were a bit on the short side but fit.

“May I sit by the fire, Captain, please?” The Viking looked at him and shrugged.

“Sit wherever you want, slut.” Sherlock slowly moved over there and sat cross-legged on the ground.

“Thank you, Captain.” His eyes kept roaming the room. He saw some books which actually surprised him because they were medical books.

“Interesting …” He thought and kept looking around. He also saw a smaller place where you could wash up. He so hated to be dirty. He also still felt the hands of the Vikings on his skin and he shuddered.

He listened to the noises the man made. He rummaged through a wooden box and finally was dressed in a pair of trousers and nothing else. Sherlock’s eyes lingered and stopped on a wild looking scar on his shoulder.

“Like what you see?” He blushed and at once cast his eyes.

“I am sorry, Captain.” But the Viking shook his head.

“No, don’t be. I know it’s nasty.” It knocked on his door and he went to open it. One Viking brought brought food and drinks.

“Sit down. Eat and drink with me. By the way, my name is John.” Sherlock raised a brow but sat.

“That’s not a Viking name at all.” John shook his head.

“No, it isn’t. I was sold when I was a boy. They gave me the name Ragnar but I never forgot my name is actually John.” He shrugged and just cut the meat and offered Sherlock a plate. He carefully took it.

“Thank you, Captain.” He also poured wine and sliced some bread. There was butter, too.

No more words were spoken during dinner and Sherlock just waited for the inevitable.

“What are you thinking about?” Ragnar, John, suddenly asked. Sherlock looked up and swallowed his bite. He had decided to be honest with him.

“I am waiting for you to fuck me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Ragnar tilted his head and just looked at him.

“Well, I think you are a very beautiful man.” Sherlock just shrugged.

“Get it over with.” Ragnar grinned and leant back.

“What?” Ragnar said and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“I saw that.”

“So what?” Both men stared at each other until Ragnar started to talk again.

“I think I have been too good to you just now. A place by the fire, clothes and food. You aren't very grateful. I believe I have to make you behave.” Sherlock’s eyes widened.

“I will also fuck you into oblivion, Princess. You will beg me for it; beg me to let you come. You will scream and shout.” Sherlock stared at him and slowly shook his head.

“You liked what I did to you earlier. And don't deny it. You were aroused.” The Viking laughed and stood. Sherlock closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair. Ragnar stood behind him and moved his fingers beneath his shirt. He pinched his left nipple and he squeaked.

“Oi! What’s that? Aren’t you my little piglet?” And he ruffled his hair. Sherlock turned his head away and Ragnar fisted into it at once.

“No!” Sherlock stilled suddenly sensing the danger emanating from the Viking.

“Eyes on me!” He ordered then and Sherlock looked up again. Ragnar smiled pleasantly.

“Oh, Princess, don’t be scared. There is no reason yet to be scared.” And he placed his fingers on one nipple again.

“So who are you again?” He twisted it cruelly making him squeak and yelp.

“Your piglet, I am your little piglet ...” Sherlock barely got it out, he was so ashamed and felt humiliated. Ragnar kissed his neck now. He also licked a wet stripe over his soft skin. Sherlock relaxed and felt horrible. He grabbed the chair like his life depended on it.

“Relax, Princess. You are all cold and clammy. Here, have a drink.” Sherlock drank more wine and Ragnar watched him.

“I have some more questions and I want you to answer them honestly, bitch.”

“Yes, Captain.” Ragnar walked up and down in front of Sherlock.

“Have you ever been penetrated by anything else but the real thing?” Sherlock swallowed.

“My favourite, our leader of the guards, stuck his fingers into my behind. I thought I’d die right there and then.” He unintentionally smiled. Then his smile faltered because Greg would be dead by now.

Sherlock watched Ragnar adjust his trousers.

“Get up and sit on my bed against the headrest.” Sherlock stood and climbed on his bed. Ragnar came right after and straddled him. He almost sat on his groin. He placed his hands on both sides of his head and caged him in.

“I want you. Badly. I will keep you for myself.” Ragnar roughly whispered.

“If I do as you say.” Ragnar tilted his head and bit into his ear.

“If you don’t obey my orders, I will punish you but never ever share you.”

“Punish me how?” Sherlock just needed to know.

“I will spank you or beat you with a cane or a whip. I will bend your body until it cramps and tie you down like this. Last stage is tying you to the mast naked, no matter the weather with a plug stuck into your behind.”

“Tell me what to do then. I will do it. I don’t want scars and I don’t want to die outside. I am not stupid.” Ragnar smiled very pleased and nodded.

“Very good, Princess. And you should never ever forget to pay me the much needed respect.”

“Yes, Captain. I am sorry if I forgot. It won't happen again, Captain.” Ragnar worried his lips and thought about it for a bit. Sherlock watched him.

“OK, now I want to see you come. Rub yourself off. Take your time.” Ragnar sat down by his side and just looked at him. Sherlock swallowed and slowly opened his trousers. His eyes were focused on Ragnar whose eyes were glued to Sherlock’s groin. He sat on his heels by Sherlock’s side and suddenly looked back up into his eyes.

“I am giving you orders now and you will obey because you are a slut. You were hiding in royal garments but inside really you are a sluttish whore.” Sherlock blushed a dark red but started to stroke his cock.

“Thumb the head of your fucking prick and lick it off.” Sherlock did exactly that and closed his eyes.

“No, look at me, pet!” Ragnar ordered and Sherlock’s eyes shot open again.

“Good boy. Now use your free hand and fondle your balls.” It became difficult because Sherlock was still wearing the borrowed trousers. He needed to please the Viking so he hooked his fingers beneath the hem and pulled them down. He wore no shoes anyway so he just kicked them off the bed. He kept the shirt on until Ragnar would tell him otherwise.

The Viking now stared between his legs. Sherlock rubbed his palm over his testicles and very slowly stroked his cock. Ragnar blinked and looked up again.

“You are such a slut. I want you on your back and pull your unbelievingly long legs up. Spread them wide. Hold your dick and squeeze it tight.” Sherlock did exactly that and couldn’t suppress a groan now.

“Yes, sounds good to me. You like this, being told what to do, waiting for my orders. You are fucking delectable.” Ragnar grabbed the pillow.

“Lift up your plush arse, Princess.” Sherlock heaved himself up and Ragnar shoved it beneath him. He moved between his legs and pressed his hands down beside his head. His hips rotated and their bodies were pressed together. Sherlock strained his long neck and Ragnar licked his pulse point. His whole body twitched. He started to groan when Ragnar started to claw all over his heated skin.

Ragnar took Sherlock’s skinny wrists in one of his hands and the other disappeared into Sherlock’s longish curls.

“You are so fucking beautiful …” He groaned and licked over his nipples. Sherlock shivered. He stared at the wooden ceiling and bit his lips. Soon enough he started to shake and tried to stop his crying fit. But he couldn’t. He started to sob out and almost choked.

Ragnar looked at him.

“Stop that at once!” He slanted his eyes and stared him down. Sherlock sobbed once more but finally stopped.

“You are giving me feelings I can’t bear. I know you will rape me and fuck me raw. I …” He only sobbed it out and it was hard for Ragnar to understand his words. But when Sherlock was done he got up on his knees and pulled Sherlock with him. Then he once backhanded him hard.

“I said don’t cry. Calm down.” He hit him once more and Sherlock straightened up again. He rubbed over his red-rimmed eyes. Ragnar looked at him.

***

“I am sorry, Captain ...” Sherlock roughly whispered. He also shivered because he felt the chilly air creeping through the walls. Outside he could hear the wind and the men shout. Ragnar pulled up the duvet.

“Sleep now, Princess. I don't fancy fucking a crying baby. And I am too tired to beat you into submission now. But in a few days we will reach the shore and I will parade you around.” Ragnar pulled him close by his collar and bit into his lips. He pressed him down and held him tight against his body.

It took Sherlock a while before he could fall asleep. He was scared to death but he was also exhausted. Exhausted enough to relax into the Viking's grip and give in.


	3. Viking Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at the Viking Village and again treated badly.

The journey took more than two weeks until they reached Ragnar’s home. The ships were welcomed loudly. Many men and women with children were cheering and yelling. Sherlock could hear it from inside the ship. Ragnar had ordered him to stay inside until he got him. And he obeyed, of course he did.

He wondered what was going on but there were no windows pointing to the land. He needed patience which he never had. It became dark outside and Sherlock felt alone. What was he supposed to do? What awaited him?

Finally Ragnar returned being all ruffled up and with a healthy red on his cheeks.

“Princess, I am so sorry to have neglected you. But I had to do a speech and I had to share the war booty with my people. You know how it is.” He sighed looking at him and Sherlock looked back up.

“No, I don’t. Am I to be shared, too?” At once he bit his lips when the Viking slanted his eyes.

“Perhaps I have been to gentle with you. You need to know where you belong, bitch.”

“I am sorry, Captain! Please, I didn't mean ...” He swallowed when he saw the rope in his eyes.

“This is entirely your fault. If you'd behaved nicely I would have gone easy on you.” Sherlock's eyes watered but he had no choice but to do as being told now.

“Hold still and just take it.” Sherlock just gave in and his body slumped a bit. Ragnar tied his wrists on his lower back and only then ripped his shirt open so a lot of skin showed.

“Kneel.” Sherlock knelt and felt the Viking behind him. Then a bit was pressed between his lips and forced behind his teeth. Sherlock painfully groaned when it was buckled tight.

“I told you. Entirely your fault.” Sherlock's head hung low but he was forced up again. A leash was hooked to his collar and Ragnar pulled him behind.

“Move.” He harshly whispered and once roughly pulled. Sherlock stumbled but followed up quickly. Soon he stood on deck and watched the crowd gathering at the shore. At once they started to hoot and yell when they saw him. Sherlock almost panicked but got pulled off the ship. Ragnar pulled him through the crowd and they touched his body where they could. Soon his shirt was gone and his face was stained with tears running through the dirt they had thrown at him.

He was led on top of a stage at the market-place. He had to kneel on a pedestal and Ragnar lifted up his arms. The people became quiet at once. He talked for a few minutes once and again pointing at Sherlock who didn't understand a single word.

He only froze. It was cold and the wind was harsh on his tender skin. He drooled around the bit and some children stared up at him from down below. He looked back at them and bared his teeth around the bit but they only laughed.

Suddenly a woman's voice spoke loudly and Ragnar offered his hand pulling her up. She held a circle of thorny flowers in her hands that she offered to Ragnar but he shook his head and pointed at Sherlock. She looked at him and grinned. Then she stepped up to him and looked down.

“Pretty Princess.” She said with a strong accent and pressed the flower crown over his hair and on his head. It hurt horribly and he started crying again. Blood mixed with tears and the Vikings were extremely pleased.

Ragnar just looked at him and Sherlock cast his eyes.

The woman left and Ragnar talked some more. Then he had more bounty brought over and shared everything. He had also stolen lots of food, fruits and such, that was welcomed a lot by the people.

When he was done they were allowed to throw some old and rotten things at Sherlock and only then the people left. Sherlock was still kneeling on the pedestal and Ragnar was by his side. He picked up the leash.

“Now I will take you home.” He roughly pulled and Sherlock stood. He was barely able to walk but he managed. They reached the biggest house and he was pushed inside. He stumbled and fell over the threshold. A large dog barked and came running. Sherlock didn't dare move but the dog just sniffed him and then licked over his face. Then he ran around Ragnar who ruffled his fur and spoke to him in a low and husky voice.

Sherlock envied the dog.

His leash was hooked to the bed's post and Ragnar stood in front of him looking down.

“Kneel, bitch, and listen.” Sherlock made it back up on his knees which were chafed bloody and sore.

“This is your home from now on. I am your master and you will do as I say. Whatever I want, you do it. If you behave nothing like what just happened will happen to you again. If not, well, use your imagination. I thought you had understood. On my ship it went well. Anyway, I will teach you the correct behaviour around me. I hope you will be useful to me because if you are not, you are useless and therefore don't get food or a wash or whatever.” Sherlock started to beg behind the bit even though it was senseless.

“Shut up, I am not done yet. You are less than my dog over there. You will sleep on the ground. I bet you won't be able to do the chores but I will teach you to do so. And finally you will please me. I will fuck you raw whenever I want. Because you are my bitch. Only mine. No one will dare touch you. Unless I allow it.” Sherlock swallowed and fresh tears ran over his cheekbones.

“Now what do you say?” Ragnar asked taking the bit off. Sherlock had to clear his throat.

“I'll do anything you want me to. I will obey you, Captain.” Ragnar lowered his head.

“The correct title would be Skeppare but never mind. I know you will show me respect. And now show me what you will do for me.” There had been lots of slaves at his brother's place, so he knew what was expected. He lowered his head and kissed the Viking's boots.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad to be the Viking leaders’ bitch if he only behaved.

***

Ragnar roughly laughed and stepped away from him. Sherlock relaxed and stayed put. He felt very weak and also a bit dizzy. He leant against the post and tried to have a look around.

Ragnar returned with two bowls. One for the dog and one for Sherlock. He did not untie his hands.

“Eat.” But he kept holding the bowl away from him. Sherlock understood what was expected.

“Thank you, master.” The bowl was placed in front of him and Sherlock lowered his head. It was meat and some leftover potatoes. It smelled a bit wonky but Sherlock was so hungry. He ate it all and tried to lick the bowl clean. Next came a bowl with water and he lapped it up, too. Then he was tired. He leaned back against the post because he was hooked to it too high to rest on the ground.

“Is my pet too tired to entertain me properly?” Sherlock's eyes shot open again and he looked up.

“Of course not, master. I am sorry. What do you want me to do?” Ragnar laughed.

“Nothing much, bitch. You are way too dirty to fuck or touch. I don't want you to get sick so hold still.” He reached out for him and Sherlock completely stilled. But he only took the thorny crown off that had been stuck on his head for all this time. Sherlock groaned when the thornes were pulled out of his skin. More blood was shed.

“Thank you, master.” He whispered.

“Tomorrow I want you to take a proper bath in the river. Wash your hair and body. Then I will make you mine.”

“Yes, master.” Ragnar shed his clothes and had a quick wash. Sherlock envied him when he climbed into his bed. Before he went to sleep he unhooked his leash and took off the collar. He just dropped it.

“Rest. And don't you try something very stupid.”

“No, master. Thank you, master.” Ragnar moved on his side and turned his back on Sherlock who slowly crawled over to the fire-place. He pulled up his legs and faced the warmth. The dog came close and nudged him. Sherlock's hand came up and gently moved through his fur. When his eyes fell on the dog's collar he realised that even his collar was rotten.He fell asleep holding the dog.

***

Ragnar towered above the sleeping man. Had he broken him in properly? Or would he be stupid enough to try to run away? He wasn't sure. Perhaps he should try to tie him up sexually. Give him pleasure and want it. Make him beg for pleasure. He slanted his eyes. First he needed to teach him more practical things like building a fire. He kicked his thigh making him wake up at once.

“Hey, slut! Why aren't you up yet? Why isn't there a fire burning? Where is my bloody breakfast?” Sherlock desperately looked around.

“I am sorry, master. I don't know how to build a fire. I am sorry. Please don't hurt me?” He hunched his shoulders.

“Anyway, get up and outside the back-door over there. There is some wood. Get some in and I will show you once. Move!” The last word he yelled and it made Sherlock jump to his feet. He stumbled over to the door and opened it. He saw the wood and gathered some in his arms. He carried it back and waited for more orders.

Ragnar rubbed over his forehead. He was so tired. But he showed him how to do it. He knew Sherlock wasn't stupid and it worked pretty well. Soon there was a warm fire burning and Ragnar slumped over to the table.

“Food is over there. Gather it and bring it over here. You may eat what you want. Don't forget Erik.” Right then the dog appeared and licked Ragnar's hand. Only then he walked over to Sherlock and looked up expectantly.  
Sherlock collected some food and placed it on the table. He poured water for Ragnar who just raised a brow and pointed to a pitcher. Sherlock brought that, too. Ragnar devoured a lot of food. Sherlock also fed the dog who thanked him by licking and wagging his tail.

And only then Sherlock took some water and fruits for himself. He wasn't really hungry but he knew he needed to eat. He couldn't know what the Viking would dish out for him. If he would make him do hard work, then he needed his strength. But if he would eat too much now, he would throw it up again.

He sat down by the fire and nibbled on the fruits. He drank a lot of water. And afterwards he needed to piss. He swallowed. He would beg. He cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, master, I need to pee.” Ragnar just pointed to the back-door and Sherlock shuddered. But he stood and walked outside. There was a small shed and he had no choice but to use it. Now he was glad he hadn't eaten too much.

When he came back inside Ragnar already waited for him.

“Now I will take you to the river and wash you. Prepare to be naked around everybody. Behave.”

“Yes, master.” The collar came back on and the leash was hooked back to it. His wrists got tied in front of him.

“Move.” Ragnar pulled him out of the house and down to the river. Dirty and half-naked as he was he walked through the mud and tried not to look at anyone. But he heard the words spoken and it didn't sound nice. But this time nothing was thrown at him.

They were left alone by the shore and Ragnar untied him. Everything came off and Sherlock was thankful.

“Now go and wash up. Take the soap and wash your hair, too.” He handed him some soap and Sherlock gratefully took it.

“Thank you, master.” Sherlock slowly moved into the river and almost froze to death. He quickly swam several rounds and then washed his hair. He swam some more and washed his entire body very thorough.

“Come out, slut, your lips are all blue.” At once he got out of the water and stood there shaking. He was given some fabric he used to dry his hair and body. He was also given boots so he wouldn't get dirty feet again. His teeth shattered while thanking him. He was led back without any restraints. Back in the house he moved up to the fire at once and Ragnar placed some clothes by his side.

“As soon as you are ready, I will show you around. I still believe you could be useful to me and my tribe in times of a crisis. So whenever you are ready.” He turned away and grabbed a book from a shelve. Sherlock again was surprised that the Viking was able to read. He wasn't able to see what kind of book that was. And then he remembered there had been books on board the ship, as well.

He rubbed over his cold arms and legs but soon warmed up in front of the burning logs. He dressed into the provided clothes and stood.

“Let's see how this works without a collar and leash.” And he didn't put them back on. Sherlock almost cried.

“Thank you, master.” They walked outside and through the small village. At the end Sherlock saw a different kind of house, very clean and tidy. He dared to ask.

“This one looks different, master. What is it?” Ragnar looked up at him.

“That’s our place for the sick. I try to treat my people myself but sometimes I need the help of the local druid.”

“You work with druids?” It came out like a bit shocked. Where Sherlock was living his brother had banned every single druid. The ones that wouldn't leave had been killed or enslaved. Sherlock only ever heard about those people but had never met one living as a free man. The ones he had been meeting were hiding or on the run and he had to take what he could during the short periods he was able to talk to them.

What he actually meant to ask was how the rogue Viking would be treating the sick. Sherlock wondered but at once bit his lips.

“Well, you had a magician.” Ragnar answered and Sherlock’s face darkened. Ragnar grinned.

“Lighten up, Princess. He is a good man. Everything he does is related to the earth and plants. He works wonders.”

“I could help there since I do experiments on my own.” He also was curious to finally have the opportunity to really talk to a druid.

“Yes, you said so. But you have to tell me about your experiments first.” Sherlock nodded.

“Is there someone in now, master?” But Ragnar shook his head.

“No, lucky us not.” He thoughtfully looked at his personal slave.

“Listen to me, Princess. I know you are capable of helping me here. With the sick and with the fights. I also know you are scared of me. Am I right?”

“Yes, master.” Ragnar nodded.

“Good, you could have a better life if you help us survive. My people will be most thankful, do you understand?”

“Yes, master.”

“First I need to know you better. I will ask you some questions and I want you to answer them honestly. Is that understood?”

“Yes, master. I won't lie to you. It won't do me any good.” Ragnar laughed shaking his head.

“No, that's right, pet. Let's keep walking.” He pulled him along and Sherlock obediently walked by his side.

“I know your brother rules your Kingdom. Where are your parents? What happened?” Sherlock swallowed and his eyes watered again. But he replied.

“The Queen, my mother, was murdered together with my father, the King. I suspect my brother was behind it and some brewed potion by the magician Moriarty. But it was never proven. But I know it, I just know it.” Ragnar looked shocked.

“I may be not an angel myself but that’s horrible …”

“For me it was, yes. I was only eleven and my brother already 18 when he took over the Kingdom.”

“That must have been hard for you. Believe me, I know everything about growing up alone, fighting my way up and everything.”

“I never had to fight for anything, master. I was kept inside. My brother always gave me everything I ever wanted to keep me in sight.”

“Look at me, Princess.” Ragnar had stopped walking and they locked eyes. Sherlock was scared again.

“Listen to me, slut. If you do it right you can live by my side. You will always be mine and I do as I please with you. But you could live a good life.”

“I am thankful for everything you might give to me, master. I just don't want to hurt anymore.” Ragnar grinned.

“That's not the whole truth, isn't it?” He hooked his finger behind his collar and pulled him down.

“You are right, master. More than pain I fear the humiliation. It hurts much more. Please don't do this to me, master. I will always obey you. Always. Master, please ...”

Ragnar was aroused and pressed his lips on Sherlock's. He opened his mouth at once and Ragnar took advantage. His tongue moved over his teeth and palate and started to fight with his tongue. Both men were panting when Ragnar let go. Both men were also hard.

“Let’s go home.” Ragnar roughly said and pulled Sherlock along with him. Unfortunately he was stopped by some man in front of his door.

“Go inside and wait for me!” Sherlock just obeyed without responding when being pushed inside. He closed the door behind him and at once groped between his legs. And since he didn’t want to soil his new clothes he got rid of them at once. His cock led the way pointing forward. He knelt in front of the bed which was freshly made and languidly touched his body. He had discovered how he liked his nipples to be touched, so he did that, too. He leaked more and also quietly moaned.

It didn’t take Ragnar long until he banged the door close and also locked it. He hurried into the bedroom and looked at the naked Sherlock.

“Oh, aren’t you gorgeous, my precious slut.” He shed his clothes, too, and pressed him chest down on his bed.

“Are you ready for me?” He roughly whispered.

“Yes, I am, master.” Of course he really wasn't. He was scared to death but he would submit to him and finally become the Viking's bitch.

***

“Turn around, slut.” He ordered and Sherlock moved on his back. Ragnar reached under the pillow and got a small bottle.

“Up with your legs.” Sherlock slowly pulled up his legs and spread them. He tried to relax but it wasn’t easy. Ragnar reached over his head and pulled up some ropes. He tied his wrists to the posts. He took more ropes and tied his thighs to the bed's frame so they kept being spread apart. The same happened to his ankles so he wasn't able to kick around.

Sherlock panted through his open mouth and watched the Viking doing whatever he was doing. He slicked his finger with something taken from the little bottle. Then he started to move his finger over his hole. He massaged his opening and soon Sherlock relaxed because at the same time he touched his cock, too. The feelings were unbelievable.

“Open up. You must relax or you will get torn.” Sherlock exhaled and felt Ragnar’s finger poke around. Suddenly he was inside touching the sides of his tight passage. So far it wasn’t that painful. But Ragnar was pushing deeper and deeper and soon used two fingers to spread him wide. And he also touched his sweet spot making him yell loudly.

“What?” He panted and stared up into a grinning face. Ragnar pressed down again and rubbed and did unspeakable things.

“Don’t stop …” Sherlock groaned and fisted the ropes around his wrists.

“What did you just say, pet?” He once slapped him hard making Sherlock groan.

“I am sorry, master. I meant to say, please don't stop, master.”

“That's what I thought, bitch. And you are my bitch. You like what I am doing to you. Beg me for more pleasure. I want to hear you.” And he stopped moving his fingers. Sherlock swallowed and licked his lips.

“I do like this very much, master. Your fingers are divine. Make me your bitch. Everything you do, it shoots right down into my toes and up my spine into my head. It feels like I am going to come any second but I try to hold back. For you, master. You are amazing!” Ragnar laughed loudly and it sounded very pleased.

“Very good. I’ll speed up then.” Ragnar started to use three and four fingers inside him. But by now his free hand was around the base of Sherlock’s cock so he couldn’t come. Sherlock looked and saw his cock. He had once seen it before when it got pushed between his lips and down his throat. He knew Ragnar was big, too big. He swallowed. How should that thing ever fit? But Ragnar was already using the fluid from the bottle and slicked it up. He came between Sherlock’s legs and lined up. His head pushed against Sherlock’s hole and Sherlock felt it wasn’t enough but he pushed back.

“Move with me, bitch.” Suddenly the head had passed the tight ring of muscles. Sherlock hissed and stilled but Ragnar kept moving. Sherlock groaned and it turned the Viking on big time. He sweated and tried to relax to make it less painful. Only then he very slowly started to press up and Ragnar started to rotate his hips faster and faster.

“Ooohhh …” Sherlock’s eyes were wide open and he stared at the ceiling. And then Ragnar filled him to the brim. Sherlock felt stuffed like a goose. He was stretched and groaned and panted and shivered. But when Ragnar started to move he soon started to moan sinfully.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Oh God! I … Please!” Sherlock felt like he had never felt before. If Ragnar wouldn’t hold his cock he would have come already, probably twice. But Ragnar held him back and kept pushing. He became faster and faster while Sherlock just held on to the ride. Sherlock felt his swollen cock inside and wondered how long Ragnar could make it last.

Ragnar sped up again and drove into Sherlock like riding a wild horse into submission. He ruthlessly pushed into the body and he screamed out his lust not caring about the people outside. Ragnar wildly came into Sherlock for minutes and finally just fell on his heated body. Sherlock came a few seconds later spurting between their sweaty bodies. He roughly breathed through the end of his orgasm.

Finally their eyes met and Ragnar quietly laughed. On shaking arms Ragnar heaved himself up and pulled out releasing a gush of semen. Sherlock groaned and pulled a face making Ragnar grin. He bit into his flat stomach and moved his finger trough Sherlock’s cum.

“Next time I will also gag and blindfold you.” Sherlock swallowed. His insides churned and his prick was very interested. Ragnar raised a brow.

“You are getting off on it. Me talking about this. Me talking dirty to you, belittle you. I made you into a fine pain-slut. You will become the perfect bitch.” He smiled and hit his face.

“Who are you?” Sherlock looked up at him.

“I am your pain-slut, your perfect bitch, master.” Ragnar nodded.

“Yes, you are. And?” He bit hard into he place where neck met shoulder making him scream out his pain.

“And I love it, master!” Sherlock almost shouted the words out. His eyes widened when he saw Ragnar's cock. He was hard again. He would fuck him again.

“Yes, bitch, I am ready again. Now I want more fun.” He untied him from the bed but instead quickly tied his wrists on his lower back. He made him kneel on the bed and forced his head back against his naked chest. He shoved a piece of fabric into his mouth and forced another one tightly between his lips. It got knotted behind his head. Next he blindfolded him. Sherlock tensed when being pulled up. He was positioned over Ragnar's body on the bed and was made to straddle him. The Viking's hands were on his hips.

“Sit on my cock and ride me.” He placed his cock underneath Sherlock's hole and pressed a bit up. The same time he pushed him down until his head stuck into him again. Sherlock's body shook and he screamed into the gag. He was sore from before and it must be painful.

“Move!” Ragnar yelled and pressed and pushed even more. Finally Sherlock was settled and trembled like a frightened horse. But he moved up and down listening to the noises the Viking made.

“Faster!” Ragnar ordered and at the same time pinched his nipple. Sherlock yelled into the gag but fastened his pace. Flesh slapped on flesh. He also started to hit his cheeks making him move hectically.

Sherlock's cock wasn't hard at all which changed when Ragnar finally pressed up in the right angle. Sherlock yelled like a maniac and wildly shook. His hole fluttered and clenched around Ragnar who wildly swore. He threw Sherlock's body off of him making him scream his lungs out but to no avail. He threw him chest down on the bed and shoved up his legs. His hands rudely parted his cheeks and pushed back in. He ruthlessly fucked him now. Once and again he hit him wherever he could reach and sometimes he even touched his prostate again.

He reached around him and pinched his cock and balls. He made him come until there was nothing left. Then he gave him dry orgasms that hurt like fuck.

He kept fucking him until he only whimpered and wailed beneath him. Only then he came into him and filled him up. When pulling out there was blood in the mix. Ragnar grinned viciously and put a plug into Sherlock to keep his cum inside. He weakly groaned.

Ragnar took off the blindfold and the sodden gag and looked into his eyes.

“Thank you, master ...” And only now he dared to black out.


	4. Moriarty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evil magician's methods of gaining information.

King Mycroft, his wife Molly and Sherlock’s wife Margaret rode through the woods. They were led by the magician Moriarty who had planned their escape. He had changed a simple cave into the perfect hide-out. Even the horses found their place inside.

Mycroft sent both Molly and Margaret to bed so he could talk to Moriarty alone. He looked at the skinny magician down over his nose.

“What about my treasure chamber? Is it secured?” Moriarty nodded.

“Of course it is. The Vikings weren’t able to open it. The only things they took is your brother and the things laying around in the open.”

“Yes, regarding my brother.” Mycroft sighed.

“Yes? What about him? He probably got raped and killed. So what? You are finally rid of him.” Mycroft snorted.

“Yes, I wanted to get rid of him but not like that! He is my little brother, for God’s sake!”

“He is lost.”

“I know that. But shouldn’t we at least try and look for him?”

“At first we should look for the Royal Guard. Your men should be out there somewhere. Some of them surely must have survived.”

“I do hope so.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“We should rest now. I will conceal the entrance and no one will find us.”

***

The head of the Royal Guard, Gregory Lestrade, looked over the castle. He noted all the damaged places and stolen goods. The treasure-chamber was secured and he knew of that. He had seen the Royal Family escape with the magician and he hoped it had worked out.

Now he was counting the dead and hurt. There were a lot of people injured but most of them would survive. Some men of the guard were killed during the attack. Some of them had followed the leaving Vikings. Some of them even returned and told him what had happened. Greg’s face had darkened when he heard that Prince Sherlock had been taken away and was lost for sure.

Greg knew that King Mycroft wouldn’t let him go on a rescue mission. He would probably mourn the loss but not for long. He pitied Margaret. She wasn’t able to go back because she was widowed. She probably would end all alone in a nunnery.

Greg rubbed his dirty and tired face. He sighed and stretched his body. The Royal Family was gone for four days now and he wondered when Moriarty would bring them back. He walked up on the look-out and searched the surroundings but there was nothing to be seen.

Quietly he mourned for his best friend, Prince Sherlock.

***

Ten days after the attack Moriarty led the Royal Family back into the castle. During their absence everything had been repaired and cleaned. King Mycroft was very pleased with what he found. He did a speech and praised his people knowing very well they needed it. He promised a welcome-back feast with food and drinks for everyone in a few days time and everybody cheered. Afterwards he sent his wife and Margaret into their rooms and talked to Moriarty.

“Do you think they want ransom for Sherlock?” He asked looking at him. Moriarty looked thoughtful.

“No, too many days have passed already. If they would have wanted ransom there would be a note by now.”

“Find out if he is dead.” Mycroft ordered. Moriarty lowered his head and left for his rooms to cast a spell. When he arrived there he ordered the guard to bring him a slave. He needed human blood for his spell. First he shed his cloak and moved his hair back. He collected some bones, feathers and spices and put everything into a silver bowl. It knocked on his door and the guard opened it. A slave was pushed inside. His hands were tied on his lower back and he was also gagged. His eyes were wide with fear and he smelled of angst. Moriarty smiled and the guard quickly disappeared.

Slowly he approached the slave who tried to move back but Moriarty used his magic and froze him on the spot. He once moved around him and shook his head.

“Why are you lot always so dirty? Uncombed and not washed? It’s disgusting!” The slave quietly whined. Moriarty waved his left hand through the air and the slave stood there totally naked.

“Not too bad.” Moriarty smiled but it wasn’t a nice smile. He made some more complicated moves with both his hands and it started to rain over the slaves body. He made it last about two minutes and then stopped it again.

“Much better.” He made him move again.

“Kneel by the table.” The slave obeyed trying to survive. Moriarty fisted into his dripping wet hair and forced his head back. His free hand held a sharp knife and he scratched over the face, neck and throat. The slave swallowed and started to sweat.

Moriarty quietly giggled and knelt in front of him. He spread his knees apart and sliced into this thigh. The slave whimpered and groaned but didn’t move. He knew better. The blood ran into the bowl until it covered the things already in there. Only then Moriarty moved his finger over the wound and it closed.

“Stay.” He ordered and stood. He calmly did the spell and soon the bowl had a big cloud of smelly smoke over it which Moriarty stared at for minutes. Then he grinned and tilted his head. Then he even rubbed his hands.

“Interesting …” Suddenly he turned around and stared at the slave who still knelt by the table. Slowly a wicked grin appeared on his face.

“I think I earned myself a treat.” The slave trembled with fear when Moriarty approached him. He grabbed his arm and forcefully shoved him over to the bed. He just threw him on his front, shoved his legs up and held him down.

“Just do what I say and maybe, only maybe, I’ll let you live.” The slave groaned when Moriarty’s nails raked over his back and left welts and blood on his body. He only started to try getting rid of the rope around his wrists when his cheeks got parted.

“Behave!” Moriarty hissed and at the same time pressed his balls. It elicited a scream which made his cock swell. He spit into the rim and used his pre-cum to slick his cock. The slave cried by now and it made him even harder. He pushed into him.

“Oh fuck, you are a tight bitch. Never have been fucked properly, haven’t you?” He pushed and pushed and the slave helplessly writhed beneath him. He wildly came and pulled out. Semen and blood spilled out of the whimpering slave and Moriarty used both hands to rub it all over his body. He rolled him on his back and looked at him.

“That wasn’t too bad. Yet I am not done.” The slaves eyes widened but he already got pulled up and on the ground. He was made to kneel with his back against a wooden post which stood between his legs. He got tied up against it until he could barely move. Only then Moriarty took off the sodden gag and just dropped it on the floor. He used some leather strips to tether the head to the post.

He walked back to his table and heated up some candle-wax. The slave couldn’t follow him with his eyes anymore. Moriarty approached him and knelt down to get better access. He stuffed the wax into his nostrils so he was forced to breathe open-mouthed.

“Lick them.” He shoved three fingers into his mouth and the slave almost gagged but managed. He licked Moriarty’s fingers.

“Now suck.” And he sucked. Moriarty looked pleased and pressed down his tongue until he choked.

“This will do.” He cleaned his fingers with the slaves hair and took his prick in hand.

“If you bite me I will make you eat your own cock.” The slave just looked shocked when Moriarty moved his dick all over his face smearing cum everywhere.

“Now open wide.” The slave shook with fear and humiliation but took Moriarty’s cock on his tongue.

“Lick. Suck. More.” The orders changed second by second until his throat got invaded and he wasn’t able to breathe anymore. Panic stood in his eyes and Moriarty almost came. But he wanted something else. He pulled out and neglected his cock for a bit because he wanted to play.

“You will live as long as I see fit. I need your body or at least some parts of it. I will use you but you will live.” The slave just stared at him.

“Do you want to play with me? Hm?” Moriarty ruffled his hair and grinned. The slave tried to nod but couldn’t.

“Very well.” Again he collected some stuff. He bound his cock and testicles and made him hurt. He got him off the post and the slave swayed on the spot due to the blood loss. Since he was a slave and collared anyway he just hooked a leash to his collar and tethered him to the floor by his table. His ankles got tied up now, too.

“Forehead on the ground and arse up.” The slave obeyed instantly and Moriarty parted his cheeks again. Cold metal was pressed inside and the slave groaned. The metal got parted and stretched him wide open. He shook with the pain. Moriarty grinned and pissed into his hole. The slave was absolutely still and didn’t make a sound. But he cried.

Moriarty pulled out the metal and instead stuffed something wooden into him to keep his piss where it was. He took the leash off the floor and forced his cock back into the mouth to clean it. Only when he had come down his throat he was pleased and got dressed again. He took a thick bit-gag from a drawer and pressed it behind the slaves teeth. He would still be able to breathe around it but it would hurt. He also blindfolded him. And then he left to tell the King about Sherlock.

***

A few hours later Ragnar woke and looked at Sherlock who was still unconscious and tied up. Ragnar sighed and cut off the ropes between his wrists. His arms just fell to the side but he didn't come to. Ragnar poked him.

“Hey, pet, wake up. It's cold in here. You have to build a fire!” But Sherlock didn't wake. Now Ragnar raised a brow. He took his wrist and felt for his pulse. It was very slow and very weak. His skin was clammy and cold. He had gone into shock.

“Damn it!” Ragnar swore and got up. He needed to get the druid to help. He had been too hard on him. He didn't want to destroy the bitch. He wanted to keep him. And he wanted to be sure he was too frightened to flee.

He opened his door and called out for some boy who played outside to get the druid. The boy nodded and at once took off to fetch him. He patiently waited until he arrived.

“Sean, thank you for coming.” The druid nodded and stepped inside.

“What is it this time, Ragnar? What did you do?”

“It seems I had too much fun.” He pointed over his shoulder and Sean stepped up to the bed.

“Oh, that's the Prince you kept for yourself. I heard rumours.” Ragnar didn't answer. Sean sat on the edge of the bed and had a closer look. Then he sighed looking up.

“Get me hot water and some fabric.” Ragnar didn't talk back but did as being told. Sean in the meantime gently pulled out the wooden plug that still stuck in Sherlock's behind. Loads of semen and blood gushed out. The druid carefully spread his cheeks and had a closer look. The hole fluttered and clenched around nothing. He washed him and cleaned him out. He stuck some clean piece of fabric into his hole which was drenched in herbs and cream to heal his torn flesh. He also bandaged his wrists and ankles and cleaned his face, too.

All the time he only whimpered but never woke. Finally he stood and washed his hands.

“Don't touch him, Ragnar. You almost made him bleed out. If you really want to keep him, you have to be more careful. You know of your size. He can be most helpful or so I have heard.”

“Yes, Sean. Thank you.”

“Let him rest. Give him a place to sleep. Fresh linens. You know the drill.” Ragnar's face darkened.

“If you want all this for him, take him with you into the place for the sick. I am not a caretaker.”

“No, you are not. I will do so.” The druid picked up Sherlock's thin body as if it were nothing and carried him away.

Ragnar stood on his doorstep and watched him leave.

***

Prince Sherlock slowly woke and returned into a world of pain. He weakly groaned and opened his eyes. Carefully he looked around. He was scared. He knew Ragnar would be angry because he had blacked out. But instead of Ragnar he saw a tall man clad in a white robe looming over him. This was the local druid.

Sherlock tried to speak but couldn't. The druid helped him to sit up and it made him hurt sitting on his behind. Then he was given water. He took it with shaking hands and drank.

“Thank you, father.” His voice was very rough. He had screamed himself hoarse. The druid shook his head.

“I am not a priest, Prince Sherlock. My name is Sean.” Sherlock kept looking at him.

“Forgive me, I have no idea how to address you. I only know I am less than Sherlock.” He cast his eyes.

“I am Sean. You are Sherlock. Don't give up.” Sherlock looked up again and their eyes met. He was given some bread now and milk with honey. He licked his lips.

“Thank you. Why are you so kind to me? You surely must know how my brother treats your kind.”

“Yes, I sure do. That's why I am living with the Vikings who accept my religion just like their own. But it's your wicked brother and his sorcerer doing these things, not you.”

“He killed my parents.” Sherlock said and stared at the bread.

“So I have heard.” Sean sat by his side and took his pulse.

“Listen, Sherlock. You are healing fairly well and soon have to go back to Ragnar. I already talked to him to be more careful with you.” Sherlock quietly snorted.

“Yes, right. He sure will do that.”

“You have to play him right.”

“How am I supposed to do that being tied up, collared and beaten into submission?” His voice was without emotion and he finished his water.

“Give him something he won't get anywhere else. Show him what you are capable of.”

“Surely nothing sexual.”

“Well, what are you capable of?” Sean asked pulling back the blanket and carefully touching some bruises.

“I am doing experiments.” Their eyes met again and Sean smiled.

“Really? Tell me all about it.” And while he examined Sherlock's wounds they talked shop. Sherlock didn't even feel the pain because his brain wandered away without him. Only when Sean pulled the blanket back up again he came back to his senses. Sean stood by the side of his bed.

“You are healing just fine. I will keep you here with me until tomorrow. I will also talk to Ragnar again, seriously so. You may get up and wander around my place as you like. But please don't touch my ongoing experiments.” Sherlock shook his head.

“No, I won't. Thank you, Sean.” He watched him leave the place and closed his eyes. The first time since he had been taken he felt safe. He sighed and carefully went back under the blanket. He slept for a few hours and when he woke for the second time he carefully got up and washed his face. He found a robe hanging over his bed and dressed into it. Then he moved through the place. He found the ongoing experiments and curiously looked at them. He at once understood what Sean was doing or trying to do. He could and he would help him if Ragnar allowed it. He also scanned every single book the druid owned. The sun set and Sean returned.

“There you are, Sherlock. Very good. How do you feel?” Sherlock shrugged and pulled the robe close.

“Better, thank you. Have you talked to my master?” Sean raised a brow.

“Yes, I have talked to Ragnar. He looks forward to have you back by tomorrow.” Sherlock snorted.

“Yes, I think he misses his sex-slave a lot. Can't probably wait to stuck his fat cock back into my behind.” Sean almost looked shocked.

“I forbid that and he agreed. Instead I advised him to let you do some experiments with me to show him what you are capable of.” Only now Sherlock looked up at him.

“Really?” He quietly asked.

“Yes, really. And he is not your master.” Sherlock nodded.

“He is. He made it very clear to me who I am and who he is. Sean, he bloody collared me.”

“Just wait and see what will happen tomorrow.”

“Whatever will happen, I am thankful, Sean. And if I ever have the opportunity to do something for you, I will do it. Everything, you hear me?” The druid smiled and just nodded.

“Let's have dinner now. Come on and sit with me.” They sat at his table and Sean served him wine. Sherlock licked his lips.

“You know you have to go back. I advise not to run away.” Sherlock snorted.

“Even if I would consider running away, where would I stay? I am not raised for a life in the wilderness. I would starve and die soon.” He shook his head.

“No, I will go back and serve my master like a good slave.” Sean shook his head.

“Keep your head up, show no weakness. Bear what he dishes out but try not to disappear into nothing.”

“I am not made for hard labour.” Sherlock quietly said looking at his bruised hands and torn nails.

“You have never been taught. You can win his heart and soul, Sherlock, by showing him what you are capable of.”

“What do you mean? Turn into a Viking and slaughter things?” He snorted.

“No, use opportunities. If something comes up, like an attack or injured children, help them. Move forward and take over. I know you are capable of such things from what you told me. He will be thankful and see what he got himself. Furthermore he wouldn't like harming you.” Sherlock thought about it.

“I see.” He nodded.

“Of course you do. Now let's have dinner.” Sean pointed over to a still empty table. Sherlock looked at him.

“What dinner?” Sean grinned.

“You need to help me cooking.” Sherlock sighed but followed him. The druid showed him how to prepare a simple stew and it wasn't too hard. When they sat down and the stew sat hot in their bowls, Sherlock was rather pleased.

“I really could do it.” He sounded surprised.

“And I am telling you, Ragnar will love these things. Even if it doesn't look like it, he likes to be coddled sometimes. He is a human being after all.”

“I try to keep that in mind.”

***

The next morning Sherlock washed himself very thorough and Sean once more checked everything.

“You are good to go, Sherlock. Dress into these. Ragnar brought them over when you already slept.”

“Ragnar was here last night?” Sherlock looked shocked.

“Yes, he was. He looked at you sleeping for quite some time.” Sherlock dressed. There were also new boots. He very well notices that there wasn't any collar.

“Will you be coming?” Sherlock asked but Sean shook his head.

“No, you need to show strength and go back by yourself. Through the village. Face the Vikings, look at them. Show you are a man.” Sherlock swallowed but nodded.

“I understand. Well, off I go.” He stood and was handed a furry cloak. He kept being surprised slinging it around his shoulders. Sean smiled at him and shoved him outside.

Sherlock deeply inhaled the cold air and straightened his body. And then he started to walk all through the village in a rather slow motion taking everything and everyone in for further use. When he met eyes he kept holding their gaze until they looked away or just nodded at him. He kept breathing steady and made it up to Ragnar's place. He stopped in front of the door and once knocked before he entered the place.

Inside Ragnar turned around quickly and then had a look of utter surprise on his face.

“You?” He asked not being able to hold this comment back. Sherlock closed the door and stepped a few steps into the house.

“Yes, it's me. I am good again and Sean sent me home. There I am. You said this is my home from now on.” He hung up his cloak and approached Ragnar. He bowed his head.

“Thank you for the clothes you have provided. Thank you for having Sean taking care of me.” Ragnar cleared his throat.

“Yes, it's all fine.” Sherlock kept holding his position while Ragnar circled him for several minutes until he finally spoke again.

“I need to show you more stuff so you will survive. Let’s go and hunt some food.” Sherlock looked shocked. He had never hunted his food. He had hunted for fun, caught the animals alive and set them free again.

“How … I don’t …” He slowly shook his head making John raise a brow.

“You sure know how to hunt?” Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, I do know how to hunt.” Ragnar sighed.

“So what?” Sherlock dared to look up.

“I haven’t ever killed animals or even skinned them.”

“You will have to learn it or your diet will consist of fruits and vegetables and your clothes will be completely made from wool. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” Sherlock worried his lips.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Sherlock quietly said. Ragnar watched him closely and sensed his strange mood. Somehow he would make it work.

They got two horses with bows and arrows and left the village. Sherlock looked good on the horse, Ragnar thought. They rode deep into the woods until Ragnar stopped close to a clearing and a creek. They walked closer and hid behind some smaller trees. Still they hadn’t spoken again.

About an hour later deer slowly came out of the trees opposite from their position. They drank the water and Ragnar licked his lips getting the bow ready. Sherlock didn’t do anything.

“I’ll show you once. The next you will do. No discussion.” Sherlock swallowed and just curtly nodded. During the next hour he watched Ragnar shoot the deer, take the guts and skin it. He paled and felt sick. But he managed not to throw up in front of Ragnar while he knelt elbow deep into the deer to get the heart out. Ragnar neatly stored everything to take back home later and then washed his hands very thorough.

“Now it’s your turn. You really have to learn this if you want to survive during the winter months.”

“I don’t understand why I have to do this. I could do other things?” Sherlock looked desperate.

“No, you couldn’t. You are a strong male and it is your work to do. You are a part of our community now.”

“Which I didn’t wish for!” Sherlock answered stroppily and a shadow crept over Ragnar’s face. Then it shot through Sherlock's brain. Ragnar had called him a strong male. Strong? But now it was too late to react properly.

“No, you didn’t, did you?” Sherlock looked at him and sensed something a bit not good. Anger? He swallowed.

“Just give me some more time and I will do this. It’s too soon. Too much happened. I … Please?” He shook his head looking desperate.

“When I am going on the next prey, you will have to stay behind. It’s not my wish to torment you; at least not like this.” A shadow of a grin appeared on his face.

“I just need you to learn all this. Do you understand?” Ragnar asked looking very, very serious. And Sherlock suddenly knew he had no choice but to do this. He swallowed and it hurt his dry throat.

Sherlock took his bow and crouched by the river. He didn’t speak, just acted. Ragnar kept watching him and stayed close by his side. Sherlock breathed calmly through his nose and shot a deer. He was handed Ragnar's nasty looking knife and did what Ragnar had done before. After he had cut out the heart he became sick and threw up into the river. Ragnar wanted to support him but Sherlock just washed his mouth and face and kept going. He threw up a second time when he was halfway done with the skinning.

When Sherlock was done he stood and looked at Ragnar. He still looked sick and pale and needed a wash. So did his clothes.

“You just prepared your first winter boots.” Ragnar sounded proud but Sherlock didn't pick up on it. He felt very cold.

“I would like to swim when we are back home, please.” He quietly begged and Ragnar stared at Sherlock.

“Whatever.” They bagged everything and rode back. Ragnar felt like he had drunk too much mead. Sherlock had done great, he would be a perfect house-slave, too, very soon. Sherlock watched him and wondered about his weird behaviour.

Ragnar decided he would reward him with something. He would make him like this. He really wanted to keep him.

Back in the village Ragnar showed Sherlock where to bring the meat and fur. Afterwards Ragnar grabbed some fabric to dry themselves and walked to the river with Sherlock. He also brought soap and some other stuff in a bottle. Ragnar talked to the people down there and made them leave. They undressed and the sun was slowly going down. Naked they went into the water and Sherlock at once dove deep under. Only then he felt a bit better.  
When he got up he saw Ragnar look at him with the bottle in his hands.

“Come here. You ‘ll like this.” Sherlock hesitantly swam over and sat against a rock in the water. Ragnar used the fluid to rub it into his hair and massage his scalp. It smelled fantastic but Sherlock couldn’t say what it was. He sighed.

“This is nice.” He murmured and closed his eyes. Ragnar quietly laughed.

“I thought you deserved something nice now.” Sherlock gave in and lowered his head. Soon Ragnar rubbed the soap into his skin and it felt good, too. Only then Ragnar washed his body and stopped Sherlock when he wanted to return the favour.

“No, pet. I was told to leave you alone for a bit and play nice. We are good right now.” Sherlock swallowed and lowered his head a bit. He was relieved.

“Let’s go home.” Ragnar said roughly. They dried their bodies only superficially and walked into Ragnar’s house to prepare dinner. Erik also waited and looked a bit annoyed because he had been neglected.

Sherlock dressed back into his new clothes but shoved up the arms of his shirt. He looked at Ragnar.

“What do you want me to prepare for dinner?” He left the honorific on purpose and Ragnar lifted an eyebrow.

“I am not sure you can manage on your own. I'll guide you through the process of cooking. Just do as I say.”

“You know I can do that.” Sherlock held his stare until Ragnar roughly laughed and hit him on the back of his head.

“Sean did you good. I can see that now. Come over here.” And then he showed Sherlock the meat and vegetable in the storage. It was under the floor-board covered with stones to keep it fresh. Sherlock was surprised. He showed him the contents of the kitchen-cupboard, too.

“See? These are some spices I obtained from a foreign ship. Yet I have no idea what to do with them but they smell nice.” Sherlock looked very curious.

“May I smell them? Taste a tiny bit? Please?” He stared Ragnar right into his eyes. Ragnar stared back until Sherlock bowed his head.

“I am sorry. Please continue to show me everything.” Ragnar rubbed over his temples.

“No, just do as you please. I am too hungry to argue with you or even discipline you. Taste whatever you want.” Sherlock looked at bit closer at him now and recognised his chance. Carefully he reached out and took his arm.

“No. I appreciated the clothes and taking me over to Sean. I can see you are done. Sit at the table, please, and I will do what I can. Please don't worry, I won't try to poison you on purpose.” This made Ragnar chuckle quietly. Sherlock moved him over and made him sit. Then he brought a mug and a pitcher with mead. He filled it and shoved it into his hands.

Back in the kitchen he looked through everything and finally remembered what the old cook had fed him when he was hiding from Mycroft in the kitchen. He had stomped potatoes with milk and put fried eggs and some melting butter on top. He bet there was salt in this kitchen. He already had seen some greens in the backyard. He washed his hands and started. When he finally set the plate on the table Ragnar just gaped at him and then at the plate.

“You cooked.” Sherlock's cheeks were red and he was rather smeared but he was also proud.

“Yes, I did. I hope it's OK for your standards.” Slowly Ragnar took the knife and fork and started to eat. At first very carefully and slowly but the more he ate the faster he became. Sherlock relaxed. He returned into the kitchen to clean up and have some fruits and buttered bread.

“Sherlock, come here!” Ragnar called and Sherlock hurried to his side.

“Yes? Is it not good?” But then he saw the empty plate and Ragnar's pleased and sated face.

“No, it was great, perfect. I liked it. Whatever you did with the potatoes.” He sipped some mead.

“I used some spices I found. I took salt and the yellow one because it smelled fitting. Then I cut some herbs to put on top.” He shrugged.

“You knew this dish from before.” Sherlock cast his eyes and then just told him.

“I see. So why did you eat in the kitchen?” He wanted to know suddenly.

“You didn't say anything. I didn't feel welcome at your table. I took the freedom to take some fruits and bread.” Again Ragnar rubbed over his temples with his eyes closed.

“Listen, Princess. I told you before that this is your home now. I may have been a bit rough on you but fucking you raw is different from excluding you from my table.” Sherlock looked up again and slowly shook his head.

“I really don't understand.”

“You will, time come.” He looked back at him and suddenly sighed.

“Bring a mug for you and sit with me by the fire. We need to talk shop.” He slowly stood and swayed over. Sherlock grabbed a mug and refilled the pitcher. Ragnar sat on a rug in front of the fire-place. Erik was by his side and he gently stroked through his fur. Again Sherlock envied the dog.

“Sit, Princess.” Sherlock lowered his long limbs on Ragnar's other side cradling the mug between his fingers.

“The truth is I want to fuck you all day long. You are the most delicious and beautiful creature I ever had beneath me. The truth also is I can't control myself. Be assured I didn't mean to injure you like I did. I do want to keep you for myself. You can feel safe with me. No one else will ever touch you.” He drank from his mug and so did Sherlock.

“I know you must feel horrible. It's understandable. I understand it from the core of my being.” He drank some more.

“I want you to stay with me. I am not a bad man.” His voice was getting quiet and he never looked at him.

Sherlock didn't know what he expected of him. He didn't even look at him. But he decided to make just one statement.

“I am scared to death.” He didn't look up though. He felt Ragnar look at him and he made his lips quiver and forced some tears from his eyes. The dog got up and slowly came over to him. He got nudged and licked over his face.

Ragnar was surprised and kept looking. Sherlock's hands found their way into Erik's fur and the dog growled. He knew he needed to comfort him a bit. Sean had said so. He wasn't good with these things. He sighed but not too loud. But he stood making the dog perk up his ears.

“Come to bed, Princess.” Sherlock started to freeze at once but slowly stood to collect the dishes.

“No, leave it be. Come!” Ragnar's voice became more demanding and Sherlock hurried to obey. He quickly dashed outside to piss. He washed his hands and shed his clothes while Ragnar walked outside to relieve himself. He climbed on the bed and knelt in the middle with his legs spread wide open. His hands were folded on his nape while he waited. He heard Ragnar return and felt him climb up behind him. Then his hands were around his wrists and pulled them down. Sherlock was very tense because the bandages had come off while they were in the water. But Ragnar's fingers were light as feathers on his chafed skin.

“No, not like this. Not today. On your back and easy.” Ragnar quietly said. Sherlock was surprised but did as being told. Ragnar knelt between his long legs. He started to move his palms over his thighs but never ever cruelly so. Soon Sherlock was able to relax into his touches and closed his eyes. He really enjoyed this.

But he almost yelled when he felt his cock being engulfed by a hot cavern which was Ragnar's mouth. A hand was placed on his stomach to hold him down. His eyes were wide open and he breathed open-mouthed.

Ragnar sucked and licked and worked him up until he was a panting mess, a very hard panting mess. His hands were fisted into the furry blanket and he moaned very wantonly. Finally he made it up on his elbows to watch.  
Ragnar had sensed the movement and looked up, too. Their eyes met and Ragnar wildly grinned around his cock. Then he pressed the tip of his tongue into the slit making Sherlock cry out and fall back. He started to fondle his balls now, too, and felt the pre-cum leaking out of Sherlock's cock. He listened to the noises he made and was pleased, too.

He needed to make him feel good, better. Safe. Sherlock had to trust him. He needed to make him forget about the first violent days. He was his now and he wanted to keep him. Sean had been right. Sherlock would be of no use if he was permanently scared.

Sherlock's body shook through an intense orgasm. Ragnar kept sucking and made him come twice. He swallowed everything Sherlock had to give and it was a whole lot.

Sherlock needed several minutes to come back to his senses. Shakingly he got up on his elbows again and met Ragnar's eyes.

“Thank you. Really, I mean it, thank you.” He roughly said and Ragnar just nodded.

“Let me have a look at your wrists and ankles now. Sean will eat me alive if they will get infected.” Slowly Ragnar got up and more than swayed over to the kitchen. He came back with water and some cream and fresh bandages.

“Sit up, Princess.” Sherlock did notice both the usage of Princess more than pet or worse as well as Ragnar's hard prick beneath his pants. He cleared his throat.

“Would you like me to ...” But he just cleaned his wrists and bandaged them while answering.

“No, this was about you. I need you to come down. I will survive.” Sherlock wasn't really believing what he heard. What had Sean told him? He would do anything for the druid.

Now he had no idea what to say to Ragnar. Instead he watched his every move. His hands were working smoothly and weren't trembling at all. He had rough and calloused hands and fingers but his moves were precise. Sherlock appreciated that. When Ragnar was done Sherlock sat up against the headrest to be more comfortable.

Ragnar took the water and cream away and soon returned. He looked surprised when he looked at Sherlock.

“I am not tired. May I sit here for a bit and read? Or does it disturb your sleep?” Slowly Ragnar shook his head.

“No, go grab a book. It's fine. I don't care about lights on or off. Just sleep some time, please?”

“Yes, Ragnar.” Sherlock sauntered naked through the rooms and took a book. Ragnar's eyes followed him. When Sherlock sat in bed again he pulled up the furry blanket and turned on his side. His nose almost touched Sherlock's thigh but he didn't mind. Sherlock felt when Ragnar was falling asleep.

Sherlock read for quite a while until he felt Ragnar moving and groaning. He looked at him and saw that his face was sweaty and his hair was damp. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath their lids and his whole body twitched. Sherlock put the book away and instead watched the Viking who had started to speak by now. Unfortunately Sherlock didn't understand a lot. He only had picked up the basics to get through the day by now.

His head moved restlessly over the pillow and his face was all crunched up. He was stressed. He was having a nightmare.

Hesitantly Sherlock reached out to touch him but then stopped again. Instead he spoke.

“Ragnar! Wake up!” But he just groaned and then even started to cry. Now Sherlock was able to understand the words he forced out. He was begging, begging not be hurt again. Sherlock pressed his lips together. Were these childhood memories? He had told him he had been bought a child by the Vikings.

Sherlock decided to wake him up. He placed his palm on his chest and shook him, too.

“Ragnar!” But he only groaned again and his hands came up to shove him off. But Sherlock didn't budge and tightened his grip. He shook him again more strongly.

“Wake up! Ragnar!” And suddenly he stilled and opened his eyes. But he clearly wasn't really awake. His eyes were dazed over and he didn't recognise Sherlock. Instead he reached out for him and murmured very softly, words Sherlock again didn't understand. They were probably spoken in the language Ragnar originally grew up with. It sounded strange to Sherlock's ears.

Sherlock couldn't understand why Ragnar had treated him so badly when he had suffered the same fate when being a child. He was both getting angry and felt pity. Ragnar huddled closer murmuring softly against his skin.

Sherlock sighed and blew out the light. Then he got down and held Ragnar who at once contently exhaled. Sherlock listened to his heartbeat and fell asleep.

The next morning Sherlock woke to fingers carding through his hair. It was such a caressing touch he almost was touched. Carefully he opened his eyes and looked at the naked chest of Ragnar.

“What did you do last night?” Ragnar asked quietly and kept carding through his locks. Sherlock stayed put.

“You had a nightmare and I tried to wake you.” Now he pulled at some curls and let them bounce back.

“That's not all, isn't it?” Sherlock only now realised his position. His long arm was placed over Ragnar's waist, his head was on his arm and his nose was close to his throat. They must have cuddled together during the night. Now he didn't know how to move away without touching the Vikings' body, not giving him ideas.

“It seemed you needed someone close. You murmured in a strange language, not Viking. You ...” He didn't want to anger him.

“I ..?” Sherlock swallowed.

“You cried.” The carding stopped. Ragnar's body became tense. Sherlock tried to move away but Ragnar's arms held him pressed to his body.

“Hush. You don't have to worry. You only meant well.”

“Let me up, please ...” Sherlock begged and Ragnar let go of him. Slowly Sherlock sat up against the headrest while Ragnar stayed on his side. He kept looking at him.

***

Several weeks passed and they lived fairly well with each other. Ragnar never took him violently again but he took him. He fucked him hard but never raw. He gave him names again but it sounded more playful. Slowly Sherlock got used to it and very often he even liked it.

He often talked to Sean and more frequently to other people, too. He learned the Viking language rather quickly and adopted to the village life rather fine. His hands and nails were ruined forever but he didn't mind. He was sort of happy. He had been accepted into the village community after he made life for them much better by building a better lift for the water in the fountain. He also thought of watering the fields and improved that, too.  
One day he sat with some leather stripes and made a piece of jewellery for his hair which hat grown rather long by now. He braided it into it and it looked awesome. Ragnar wanted to ravage him right then on the kitchen-table. He walked around with it for two days until the first Vikings came up and asked for the same. Sherlock after that produced some of it and just gave it away.

Ragnar was very proud of him and fucked him into next week. Sherlock placed one dark-brown one by his plate the next morning. Ragnar didn't thank him but wore it every day since then.

***

Winter was getting closer and closer. Sherlock had built up muscles and looked good again. His life had improved a lot since his stay with Sean. Of course Ragnar still fucked him roughly but he was able to cope with it.  
Sometimes he was still sad though. For instance he missed Greg. He also was worried about his wife, Margret. He could only hope that she was still alive, that Molly helped her. Hopefully she hadn't ended up in a nunnery. He also hoped he would never see his brother again. He was sure he never sent out the troops for him. Moriarty would have told him not to do so. He would know that he was still alive but would he have told him? Probably not.  
Ragnar found him staring into the flames and rubbing his hands. He came up and moved his strong hand over his hips. Sherlock looked at him.

“What's up, Princess? Sour mood?” Sherlock sighed and nodded.

“It's the winter. It's dark and depressing. I can't really go out and do stuff, collect things for experiments.”

“No, but you can do other stuff.” Ragnar grinned.

“What other stuff?” Sherlock dared to ask.

“I show you. Come on. Get dressed.” They took their cloaks and Ragnar led the way. They ended up on top of the hill by the village and Sherlock watched grown up Vikings slide down the hill on some wooden things. Children did it, too. And it looked fun, Sherlock had to admit it.

“See?” Ragnar was excited, so much Sherlock could see.

“It's called a sleigh. We altered it a bit. Come on and try it!” Sherlock watched the others riding it and then carefully settled down. Some Viking children challenged him and yelled and he wildly grinned back. He pressed his boots into the snow and pushed. He raced down the hill and tried not to fall off. The children stayed by his side. He almost made it but fell off the sleigh by the end. He sat in the snow but was laughing. They were helping him up and by now he knew they weren't mocking him. They had come to like him.

Now they made him do it again and again. The final ride though he did with Ragnar. He sat behind him and slung his long arms around him. People cheered them and they raced down. And when they stood up again Ragnar kept holding Sherlock's hand when leading him home. Sherlock didn't mind at all. He even thanked him when sitting by the fire.

***

One morning Ragnar and Sherlock were disturbed when still being in bed and kissing. Both men twitched when it suddenly knocked on the door. Erik barked and dashed off to guard the door. Ragnar quickly got out of bed and grabbed his cloak because it was cold. Sherlock stayed behind but tried to listen.

The door was opened and then there were two voices. A man and a woman were speaking. It didn't sound too good. He heard Ragnar's calm voice, he was soothing them. He quickly returned and got dressed on the way.

“I could need your help. Get up and come to Sean's. Quickly.” Sherlock already moved.

“Yes.” The answer came automatically but Ragnar didn't acknowledge it at all.

Sherlock hurried through his bathroom-routine. Well, what you call bathroom. He thought about the castle he grew up in. In some ways it had been better. But this was good, too. It really was.

He shook his head while getting dressed in a hurry. He ruffled through his hair and got his cloak. He got his boots on and ripped the door open. He began to run through the village and up to Sean's place. Vikings were watching him but no one stopped him.

The door to Sean's home stood open and he heard the crying and wailing before he entered the place. Inside were a couple and Ragnar was still trying to calm them down. Sean was rummaging through his bottles and pots but he looked up when Sherlock dashed inside.

“Sherlock, perfect. Come here and help me.” Sherlock moved over to him and shed his cloak on the way. He cleaned his hands and stood by Sean's side.

“What happened? Why are they so upset? And who is making these horrid noises?” Sean's face darkened.

“It's their daughter. She had been in the forest to collect food and such. Someone raped her.” Sherlock paled.

“God. A child?” He swallowed and felt sick.

“I need your help, Sherlock. Not another patient. Please?” Sherlock nodded.

“Of course. Tell me what to do.” Sean mixed some potion while talking to him.

“She made it back by herself and was found by another woman who right away called me. I brought her here and sent the girl to alert her parents and Ragnar. I had a look already. She has been raped, brutally so. Everywhere. But she is alive. She fought. She still is fighting.” They walked over to her bed in the connected house for the sick.

Sherlock looked at the girl. Her clothes were torn and her body was almost shown to him completely. Her hair was dishevelled and she was bruised and bleeding. She looked at Sherlock out of wide eyes and then at Sean, too. And she stopped her crying and wailing.

The mother stared at Sherlock who just looked at the girl. Ragnar talked to the father.

“We need to get her clothes off and clean her. She will be suffering from infectious wounds otherwise.” Sherlock nodded and looked at the girl who stared up at him utterly fascinated. He put a gentle smile on his face. He went on his still rather sore knees by her side not to tower above her.

“Hello, my darling. My name is Sherlock and I am here to help Sean help you. You have to undress and we will clean you and bandage you up. Noting will happen to you. Ragnar will see to that.” She responded to the name and the tone of Sherlock's voice. Slowly Sean peeled her out of her torn clothes while Sherlock prepared bandages and such. He didn't look between her legs where the blood still was leaking from her tiny body.

From feeling sick Sherlock moved into a state of anger. This was a little girl. They had to find who did that and make him suffer. His eyes met Ragnar's and there was a silent understanding between them.

“Sherlock, I have to use a needle on her behind. Prepare a piece of fabric with the fluid in there and place it on her face.” He turned around and looked at Ragnar.

“Get them out. Arrange some of your men to find the person who did this.” Ragnar led the parents out and brought them into the building for the community. Loads of people had gathered there already and comforted them. Ragnar picked some men and rode off.

In the meantime Sherlock had moved the hair out of the girl's face and kept talking to her.

“We will help you now. You know Sean here, he is very good in helping people. And I help him. And you.” He used some simple Viking words to sooth her and her eyes lightened up a bit. Her hand tried to touch his face and he lowered his head a bit.

“You are a foreign Prince.” She was in awe. Sherlock just had to smile.

“Yes, I am. And you are our Viking Princess.” She proudly smiled.

“Now you need to sleep for a while.” He held the fabric under her nose and she breathed. Soon her eyes drooped and she was gone.

Sherlock watched Sean stitching her up at several places. He washed her at other places. They made a good team.

When Sean was done he fell back on his haunches and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. Sherlock gathered all the used supplies and then helped Sean into his rocking-chair.

“I will brew you a tea.” Sherlock knew about herbs and set up the kettle. Soon he brought a mug for Sean who thankfully took it.

“You were great, Sherlock. You helped a lot. The girl adores you.” Sherlock sadly smiled.

“Her mother put the thorny crown on my head on the day I was brought here.” He stared at the wall breathing low.

“But you helped her.” Now he looked up.

“She is just a little girl, Sean. Of course I helped her.” Sherlock sounded angry.

“You are upset. It's understandable. Please stay here until Ragnar picks you up. I don't want you to be all alone, sad and angry at your place.” Sherlock stood.

“I will cook a soup. She will need to eat, too, when she wakes up.”

“Her name is Svarta.” Sherlock didn't respond but prepared dinner. When it was cooking he had a look at her bed and right he was. She was waking up and saw Sherlock who at once smiled at her again.

“Lock ...” His smile grew wider and he crouched by her side again.

“Yes, it's me. And I cooked a soup for you.” Her eyes widened.


	5. The Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock had accepted h is new life. He lived amongst the Vikings.

The winter was almost over. Sherlock's life was surprisingly good. Ragnar had never hurt him again the way he did when he had to stay with Sean. Now he only stayed with the druid for some experiments or when some Vikings were sick or injured. Sherlock turned out to be a very skilled healer and soon the Vikings trusted him. The women came to him for herbs, they brought their children first and after them their husbands, brothers and friends from nearby villages.

Sherlock didn't mind. He liked to help.

Then one day came the woman who had pressed the thorny roses on his head when Ragnar had presented him to his village on the pedestal. But she also was the woman with the raped girl. He looked at her and swallowed. Then he cast his eyes and pretended to sort through his herbs.

“How can I help you?” She cleared her throat and came a step closer.

“Sherlock, I want to tell you that I am very sorry. What I did was very cruel. I want to give you this and hope you can forgive me one day.” She placed something on the table and left. Sherlock didn't know what to say and let her go. He looked at the parcel. It was wrapped up in some fabric and bound together with hemp.

“Don't you want to open it?” Sean had stepped up and Sherlock hadn't even noticed.

“I am not sure. She ...” He shuddered and closed his eyes rubbing over them.

“I know. I saw it. But she just tried to tell you something very important.” Sherlock looked up.

“Such as?” Sean smiled.

“That you are a part of this community now. You are accepted. If you weren't, you would be living in the dirt behind Ragnar's house. Every man would have you, take you as he likes. Instead you are second-in-command. You are Ragnar's companion. You are also my assistant.” Sherlock sadly smiled.

“But still ...” He slowly shook his head. And then his head shot up.

“What? What did you just say?” Sean smiled.

“I said you are his second-in-command. And don't look at me like that because you are. He comes to you for advise, doesn't he? He shows you his plans and maps and everything, am I right?” Sherlock thought about it.

“Yes, you are right. But I am never allowed to join him.”

“Do you want to join him?” Sherlock quickly shook his head.

“No! He wouldn't want me anyway.” Sherlock was convinced of that.

“Only because he doesn't want you harmed. He is worried about you, that's all. And he needs you here in case something happens. You will be able to cope with it, manage his people. And they will listen to you.” Sherlock quietly snorted but didn't reply. Instead he looked at the parcel.

“Won't you open it?” Sherlock shrugged.

“I don't know.”

“She meant well. These people aren't good with this. It was a huge sign of honour, don't you see?”

“It wasn't when she pressed the thorns into my face.” His face hardened.

“Can't you forgive her?” Sherlock looked at him with a serious expression.

“Now you sound like a priest.” Sean smiled.

“I am a priest. I am a druid. I am many things. Please open it. I am curious.” It made Sherlock smile and he pulled the hemp-string open. He unfolded the fabric and inside sat a beautiful shirt made from leather and fur. Sherlock took it and held it up. It was beautiful.

“Ragnar will be jealous.” Sean said smiling.

“It is beautiful. She must have spent a lot of time making it.” Sherlock carefully folded it back.

“Will you forgive her? At least thank her?” Sherlock looked up sighing.

“Sean, I know she meant well. I will go and see her.” Sean hugged him.

“She is actually a good woman.”

Sherlock left Sean because it was time for dinner. Back at his place with Ragnar only Eric was waiting for him. He started to prepare dinner and when everything was simmering he cleaned his hands and shed his shirt. He took the new one and pulled it over his head. He tried to look into the small mirror but it wasn't large enough. He tried to use the window. Perhaps he could ask Ragnar for a mirror? He would only laugh at him and call him Princess some more.

“Now look at you, handsome.” Suddenly there were Ragnar's hands on his stomach. He must have crept up behind him and now slung his arms around his waist. Sherlock relaxed in his grip. He wasn't afraid anymore.

“Where did you get that? You look stunning!” He pushed him off and looked at him. He looked hungry and still Sherlock didn't understand what Ragnar saw. He just told him about the woman. Ragnar nodded.

“And?” He asked.

“And what?” Sherlock was clueless.

“Will you forgive her?” They looked at each other.

“I will tell her thank you. I will tell her maybe sometimes.”

“But it is a wonderful present.” Ragnar didn't understand.

“Yes, it is. But it doesn't make it better!” Sherlock quickly got rid of the shirt and dressed into his old one again. He shivered and started to shake. Ragnar reached out for him again.

“Hey, Princess. Don't be upset. Come here.” He pulled him into his arms and sat down with him on the ground in front of the fire. He knew it soothed him. Only today it didn't. Sherlock violently shook and then started to cry. After a long time he had to cry again. The woman had triggered the events again and he felt cold, so cold.

Ragnar held him, kissed his head and stroked his back. After quite a time Sherlock slept. He picked him up and placed him under the blanket on the bed.

The food was burnt but Ragnar wasn't hungry anymore. He climbed into bed with Sherlock and held him close. He watched over him until he woke in the middle of the night.

“Ragnar?” He asked and his voice slurred.

“Yes. Whom did you expect?” Ragnar felt him smile.

“Have you eaten?” But Ragnar shook his head.

“No, I wanted to be close to you. I needed to take care of you.” Then he climbed out of bed. Sherlock tried to grab him but missed. Ragnar had been too quick. Sherlock was surprised. Sherlock was also happy. He followed him and found him in the kitchen.

“Let me help.” Sherlock stepped up but Ragnar shook his head.

“No, you sit down. I'll take care of our food.” Sherlock looked at the burnt things and swallowed.

“But ...” Ragnar glared at him.

“Sit!” It was the voice. Sherlock stumbled backwards and sat with his back against the wall. He pulled up his knees and slung his arms around them. His forehead was pressed on his thighs and he moved backward and forward.

Ragnar only noticed a few minutes later after having scrubbed the pan. At once he knelt by his side and pulled him against his chest.

“Sherlock, please. Stand up and sit at the table. Don't do this to me because I don't know what to do.” Sherlock once sobbed but stood. He sat down and was handed a piece of fabric to clean his face. He was also given water. He didn't talk to Ragnar though. He ate what he set before him and went to bed again after. He kept being cold and his teeth were shattering.

The next morning he was feverish and Ragnar kept him in bed. He was worried. But Sherlock became better by evening and didn't want to talk about it. Ragnar didn't press but was very gentle with him. He also kept thinking a lot about everything and a fortnight later he made him sit down in front of the fire-place with him.

Sherlock looked at him and reached into his pocket. He handed over a little parcel.

“I have heard about the Julfest and I made this for you. You have been good to me lately and I want to thank you.” Ragnar took it and turned it in his hands. He smiled and then wiped over his eyes.

“I have got something for you that can't be wrapped up.” Sherlock tilted his head and just looked at him.

“You may go. Go wherever you want. I even take you any place you want. You are a free man.” Ragnar really meant well but he couldn't have foreseen the reaction in Sherlock.

“You cast me out?” He asked and jumped to his feet. Ragnar looked up at him.

“No, I just ...” Sherlock just ran. Ragnar was shocked and it took him too long to follow. Sherlock was gone and had disappeared into the woods. Without boots and a cloak. Luckily spring was close already.

***

It took them more than a week to find him. Sherlock had picked up many skills by now and was able to hide in the wilderness. He didn't use his skills for finding food though. He was starved and skinny bones. Ragnar denied Sean to take care of him in his hospital. He wanted him home.

“As you wish, Ragnar. I'll leave you some potions for him. Please take care of it and make him take them. I will come by.” Ragnar just nodded and watched them carry Sherlock inside. Eric was watching everything, too, and kept sitting by his side. Soon Ragnar joined him. He made him drink and he washed him. He slept by his side. He read to him. He sang for him.

After four days Sherlock woke and their eyes met. Ragnar cried and Sherlock looked worried. He tried to speak but couldn't. Finally Ragnar managed to make him drink again and leant him against the wooden headrest. He held his hand.

“Please, Sherlock, say something?”

“Hungry ...” Ragnar laughed and hurried to get him some soup. Sherlock greedily ate it and fell asleep right after. But there was some colour on his face again.

After three more days he walked him down to the river to make him take a bath. He made everybody else leave beforehand so they were alone in there. Sherlock hadn't spoken yet. It was only later that evening when they were having dinner that he spoke.

“You are wearing it.” Ragnar touched the pendant Sherlock had made for him.

“Yes, I am. I love it.” Sherlock used the fork and picked the food.

“Please eat, Sherlock.” He ate but when he was done he spoke some more.

“You are using my name. You have made me a free man but here I am again.”

“We were looking for you. You have just run away. You almost died.” Sherlock shrugged.

“So?”

“I don't want you dead.”

“I am just property. I am your slave. You could simply replace me.” He shrugged again. Suddenly Ragnar slammed his flat hand on the table.

“No! Yes! You were at first. But you are much more now. I didn't want to hurt you anymore. I really thought about it. And I thought that you might want to go home, be with your people again. That you don't have to live with the wild ones anymore.” Sherlock stared up at him.

“Why? Why would you care about my feelings?” He only whispered it. Now it was Ragnar's turn to just flee the house.

They never talked about it again. But Sherlock stayed.


End file.
